What The Water Gave Me
by Ibelieveinsam
Summary: Normally he would have laughed at a situation like this, the idea of Sam drowning in a baby pool but not now, not with Sam cold, blue, and lifeless in front of him. Written for the Summer Of Sam Love Challenge on LJ.
1. Down The Drain

Disclaimer: Still don't own Supernatural. If I did, Sam would be in for a world of hurt :p

A/N 1: This story was written for the Summer of Sam Love Challenge on Live Journal. The story had to be about Hero!Sam and be set in the summer. I had this plot bunny in my head for quite awhile so it seemed the perfect time to get writing. Sadly the response to the challenge wasn't so great this year as not many authors participated so there aren't that many stories to read. This makes me sad for the fandom and sad for Sam because he is an amazing character and deserves the utmost respect. I hope you find Sam to be a hero in this story even though he ends up limp. Who can resist Limp!Sam but Hero!Sam? I know I can't.

A/N 2: This story takes place after Lucifer Rising and during Sympathy For The Devil, so there are spoilers for episodes up until that point. However it only includes tiny spoilers from episode 5x01 as I only included elements from the first few minutes of the actual episode. I had a difficult time writing the boys and hope they are in character. They were going through such a difficult time in their relationship so I hope I did them justice. The title of the fic comes from the song What The Water Gave Me by Florence and The Machines.

* * *

**What The Water Gave Me**

_And oh, poor Atlas  
The world's a beast of a burden  
You've been holding on a long time  
And all this longing  
And the ships are left to rust  
That's what the water gave us_

So lay me down  
Let the only sound  
Be the overflow  
Pockets full of stones  
Lay me down  
Let the only sound  
Be the overflow—Florence And The Machines

"It's so freaking hot in here," Dean stated, grumpily.

Sam looked up from the laptop he was researching on and debated whether he should say anything.

"Wow thanks for the weather update Captain Obvious," Sam answered with a smirk, deciding that it seemed okay to make a joke this time.

"Shut up," Dean said, pouting.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief at Dean's reaction. It was typical, annoyed big brother not betrayed, angry big brother who rejected his apologies. Sam couldn't blame him though. The words "I'm sorry" just didn't seem to cut it. Ever since he had inadvertently let Lucifer out of the cage, the tension between them was palpable. The air in the hotel room was thick and soupy and he knew it wasn't due to just the Midwestern heatwave, another ominous sign that Lucifer was out there somewhere. He often felt like he was navigating through a minefield when talking to his brother, nervously awaiting the phrase that would trigger him somehow and cause another blowup between them, another rift in their already damaged relationship.

He figured since Dean was in as normal of a mood as he could be in that it was okay to bring up what they had discussed before, a distraction from the usual routine of being cooped up in a hotel room hiding out and also looking out for Lucifer.

"Dean, you know we could get away for awhile," Sam began, tentatively. "And well you wouldn't listen to me about—"

"Slogging through swamp water probably infested with people's urine and God knows what else?" Dean interrupted, eliciting the same response he had before when Sam brought up the idea.

"You mean going for a swim," Sam said, with his trademark eyeroll. "Look, this motel has zero luxuries as usual. No pool, no air conditioning."

"It has protection though. That's a luxury that we need."

Sam relived the memory of when he brought up the fact that it was Ruby that had taught him about the hex bags to offer protection against the demons and angels.

"Well we can't stay in hiding forever."

_We wouldn't have to if you hadn't let Lucifer out of the cage, _seemed to hang unsaid in the air as Dean stood there staring at him. Sam looked down, ashamed.

"But you want to swim in a public pool!" Dean said incredulously, breaking the tension a bit.

"What is so bad about it? We've been through worse, hunting through slimy sewers for shapeshifters and investigating murky ponds."

"It's just unsanitary okay?" Dean replied, staring daggers at him.

"Okay, okay. You're entitled to your opinion but I'm going for a dip. I'll be cool and refreshed while you sit here drowning in your own sweat." He imagined Dean could use the time away from him, yet he really hoped Dean would change his mind and go with him.

He also figured Dean wouldn't like the idea of him going off on his own, unsure if he could be trusted or not.

"You'll be cool and contaminated more like," Dean quipped, his decision final. "Meanwhile, I'll be here with my trusty fan." Dean turned it so it was angled more toward him.

Sam's shoulders sagged slightly in defeat. He knew the situation was bad when Dean wasn't watching his every move. He couldn't decide if constant surveillance was better than indifference.

He headed into the bathroom, returning with a towel.

"Sure I can't change your mind?"

"Nothing can change my mind," Dean declared as there was a telltale sound of electricity being powered down.

"Uh oh."

"Seriously don't say it."

"Looks like your trusty fan won't be much help now," Sam said, unable to resist. Dean didn't have a choice now.

ooooo

"I can't believe this! Of all times for the electricity to go," Dean said as they trooped through the men's locker room headed toward the pool.

"Well with all those people running fans and air conditioners, it's no wonder," Sam stated reasonably.

"More like another sign of the apocalypse," Dean countered. "This floor is so slippery! When I get athlete's foot, I'm going to stick my foot up your—"

"This way, Dean," Sam said, cutting him off as two boys ran past them, most likely to the children's pool located outside the larger one. "Watch the language Dean. There are families here."

"Okay, I'm going. I'm going," Dean relented.

After maneuvering through a maze of showers and changing rooms, Sam and Dean made their way through the exit and to the pool.

Sam scoped out the pool's length. It was long and narrow. One side started at three feet and the other measured ten feet deep.

"Let's go to the deep end," Sam said.

Dean nodded dumbly, his attention occupied elsewhere.

"I think I might like it here after all," Dean said, scoping out several women in bikinis.

"Dean," Sam said, impatiently, pulling him away.

"Yeah, yeah the deep end," Dean replied, waving off Sam's arm. "Think it will even submerge you Sasquatch?" Dean asked with a smirk.

Sam just rolled his eyes at the comment. He was actually happy that Dean was making jokes, even at his expense. They were knee deep in research regarding Lucifer and he was just glad they weren't discussing that, or broaching the topic of his betrayal.

"Get ready for my dive," Dean said, rubbing his hands together and stepping to the side of the pool. He then jumped in, splashing unceremoniously in the water with a belly flop.

"That was a dive? That was a colossal belly flop," Sam laughed.

"What? That was better than Michael Phelps!"

"Dean, Michael Phelps is an Olympic swimmer, not a diver."

"So there you go then. It _is_ better than what Michael Phelps could do."

Just then there was a telltale whistle.

"Sir, there is no jumping head first into the pool."

"See I told you! It was totally a dive, not a bellyflop."

"Tell that to your red stomach, then," Sam joked, good naturedly.

They spent the better part of the next hour, having a diving contest in which they both were given "time outs" out of the pool for failure to obey the lifeguard whom Dean had nicknamed the lifeguard Nazi. Dean had wanted to give him a piece of his mind, but Sam reminded him that he was only a teenager. Besides that small inconvenience, their afternoon was drama free which was a nice change in Sam's opinion considering what they did for a living and that Lucifer was still on the loose.

Sam had won a handstand contest judged by a ten year old who Dean hired. Dean declared that Sam had only won because of his substantial height which made the handstand appear cooler even though Sam's legs were, as Dean put it, "completely bent." Dean used the same argument when Sam beat him several times in races across the pool that Sam's considerable length caused it to "seem" as if Sam had reached the end sooner when in essence he hadn't. Dean had won his fair share of underwater breathholding contests though which Sam knew better than to dispute, and declared that his various make-out sessions helped him to maximize his lung power.

"Hey you want to go get some lunch?" Dean asked after they had been swimming for quite awhile. "I saw a food truck outside at the gate."

"Yeah, sounds good."

They both made their way out to the locker room. Dean offered to go grab them some burgers while Sam looked for an available picnic table for them to sit and eat.

Sam walked over to where the smaller pool was and scanned the grassy area, but it appeared that with the hot weather, most people had the same idea to cool off by the pool so all the picnic tables were taken. He looked over at the pool where several children were splashing through the sprinkler.

"Help! Help!" Sam heard it faintly at first and he wasn't sure if it was for real or not until he scanned the crowd again and saw a small boy about five or six yelling out for help. There appeared to be someone under the water nearby.

Sam rushed over to see what was going on. He found it hard to believe that someone could drown in the shallow pool except for maybe a very small child. The water was only about two feet deep. There was a lifeguard on duty but he was flirtatiously talking to a teenage girl about his age and he wasn't paying attention.

Sam splashed through the water, trying to avoid bumping into all the other children who were oblivious to what was going on. Sam dunked under the water and could see that there was an older boy around ten years old under the water, struggling but not coming up to the surface. Sam tugged his arm but he seemed stuck in place.

"What's going on?" Sam asked the younger one as he came to the surface.

"My brother is stuck under the water. He's drowning," he said starting to cry. Sam recognized the boy as the same one who had run by him and Dean in the locker room earlier.

"What's your name?" Sam asked.

"It's Will," the boy answered. "My brother's name is Rex."

"Rex is going to be okay," Sam said. "Don't worry."

Sam dunked back under the water and tried to examine the situation. The boy appeared to be stuck to some kind of uncovered drain in the pool and his leg was stuck in the drain which prevented him from returning to the surface. Sam kept diving under the water trying to pull the boy free but his efforts were in vain. The powerful suction was difficult to release.

"Wait here!" Sam said to the boy as he rushed out of the water and over to the lifeguard.

"What's up?" The lifeguard asked as Sam approached.

"There's a kid drowning!" Sam exclaimed frantically. "He's stuck on the drain. I need your help."

The kid looked shell shocked but obediently ran over to the pool with Sam.

He blew his whistle three times signaling a rescue.

"Everyone get out of the pool!" Sam yelled.

They both went into the water, as people fled from the area, unsure as to what was going on.

Both he and the lifeguard dove under the water and began to pull at the boy who had stopped struggling.

Sam's blood ran cold and he knew the kid was running out of time if it wasn't already too late.

"Listen this isn't working! Do you know if there is a switch to turn this thing off?"

The lifeguard nodded. "I…I think so," He stuttered, his face pale and afraid.

"Well go find it!" Sam instructed him.

Sam thought frantically of any way he could free the boy as others came over to see if they could help. He thought back to high school and what he had learned about vacuums and he had an idea. He went back under the water positioning his own body over the remaining open part of the drain. He instantaneously felt himself being pulled into the drain as well but he knew then it was working. He put his arm under the boy's stuck foot and as his own arm was pulled in, the boy's foot was set free. He felt a bolt of pain through his side and arm but he knew now that he had done what he needed to do, what he had to do. He had sacrificed himself for the kid.

He saw now that the kid was free and through blurry water filled eyes, he could just glimpse the surface and see the boy being lifted into someone's arms. He felt at peace, even now as his own body began to panic. He knew he was running out of oxygen himself, as his own arm was stuck and his chest was affixed to the drain and he couldn't move. He knew he couldn't hold his breath much longer. He mused on the idea now, wishing Dean had taught him how to have his maximum lung capacity as his oxygen starved lungs burned for air. He didn't know if the lifeguard would get the drain turned off in time, but he prayed that the boy would make it. He felt himself losing consciousness and remembered back to when he was a kid and Father Jim telling him about the water washing sinners clean. He only hoped it was true as he gave in to the overwhelming pull of the deep.

ooooo

Dean walked back to the pool area, cursing the foodstand guy for managing to get his order wrong twice. First he had been given a veggie burger which was completely blasphemous in his opinion. Then he had asked for a burger with everything on it, not nothing on it yet that's what he had gotten. He grumbled about incompetence and health food freaks as he immediately sensed a change in the atmosphere. He saw that the children's pool was now devoid of children but instead held a small gathering of adults. Off to the side, in a grassy area, he saw several lifeguards surrounding a young boy and performing CPR as a mother wept holding a younger boy in her arms. He wasn't sure what was going on but he wondered where Sam was, scanning the crowd.

"Then the big guy jumped into the water to save Rex," the tearful little boy told his mother as a triumphant lifeguard declared they had a pulse. Instantly he knew who the big guy was.

"How long has he been under?" Dean heard one man ask another.

"It's been at least a couple of minutes. Did they find that switch yet?"

"I don't know but he doesn't have much time left"

Dean could see the men pulling on something, or someone under the water and Dean knew all the more. Sam had saved the kid but at what cost?

He dropped the food to the ground as he ran straight for the water.

"Sam!" He yelled loudly. "Sammy!"

A lifeguard ran over, restraining him from running into the water.

"Sir, we have another victim in the water."

"That's not a victim. It's my brother!" Dean yelled, pushing him away.

Dean ran over the other men who were tugging at Sam with no luck.

"The kid your brother?" The man asked.

"Yes, he is and why can't you pull him out?"

"He's stuck to the drain. He somehow got the kid free, but got himself stuck."

Dean put his own head under the water in an attempt to get his own handle on the situation. He saw that Sam's arm wasn't visible and appeared to be stuck in the drain somehow. His chest was pressed up against the bottom of the pool and drain as his hair and free arm bobbed lifelessly in the water. He yanked at Sam's arm in an effort to try to free him but it was fruitless.

He rose to the surface gasping for air.

"They are looking for the shut off but I don't know what's going on," one man said to him as Dean choked on the water.

"No time!" Dean said heaving for air.

He dived back under the water, trying to see if he could get Sam's head to breach the surface of the water but it was no use. He thought back to their little breathholding contest from earlier in the day and wondered how long Sam could hold his breath. He knew that there was no way he could hold it as long as he'd been under the water. He went under the water again and could see Sam's eyes were closed, no bubbles passing from his lips, no struggle left in him. This time Dean went under and began squeezing Sam's nose and affixing his mouth to Sam's as a way to provide oxygen. He wasn't sure of the success rate of underwater CPR but he had to try something. The other men quickly caught on to what he was doing and offered to help but Dean was determined. They did what they could to lift Sam's head and hold it still under the water so Dean could give him lifesaving breaths. Dean felt like it was hours as he heard sirens in the distance as they tended to the other kid and had another paramedic unit on standby for Sam. Finally the lifeguard yelled out that the drain was off. Dean felt Sam released in his hands as he pulled his heavy limp body up to the surface of the water and flipped him over.

Sam was blue, or more appropriately gray. His lips a heinous purple color. He immediately began breathing into Sam's lungs again and continued even as he felt Sam being pulled from his grip.

"Let them do their job," One of the men comforted.

Dean reluctantly released his grip as he watched Sam being carried off to the edge of the pool. He saw the paramedics pumping on his chest and using an ambu bag to pump air into Sam's lungs but deep down he felt it was too late. Sam was dead. Normally he would have laughed at a situation like this, the idea of Sam drowning in a baby pool but not now, not with Sam cold, blue, and lifeless in front of him.

TBC


	2. Not Waving, But Drowning

A/N 1: Thanks again for all the reviews, follows and favorites! It's hard to believe, but here we are at Labor Day weekend and summer is basically over. I hope everyone has a good weekend and enjoys the last few moments of summer.

A/N 2: I think I took a few liberties with some of the medical stuff in this chapter (and most likely in the next chapter too) so I apologize if anyone in the medical field is cringing while reading this. Hopefully it still works even if I got some of the medical details wrong. The title of this chapter comes from the poem by Stevie Smith entitled "Not Waving But Drowning."

* * *

Dean shivered as he watched the paramedics working on Sam to no avail.

"Hey, let's get you out of the water," one of the men suggested as he gently prodded Dean forward.

"Did you say your brother's name was Sam?" The man asked gently. He grabbed a towel and draped it across Dean's shoulders.

"Yeah," Dean said hoarsely.

"He's a hero you know," the man stated simply.

"Yeah he is," Dean said as hot tears began to sting his eyes. Sam was a big damn hero but what had he made Sam feel like lately? A failure. Someone who had gone off the reservation. A _monster_.

He charged forward, grabbing the lifeguard by his shirt.

"What the hell took you so damn long to get that thing turned off? He yelled. "And why was my brother doing your damn job!" He shouted angrily.

"Calm down. This isn't going to help anything," the man said, yanking him off as the scared kid backed away. "I think they got something on your brother. They are transporting your brother now."

Dean backed off, shakily running a hand through his wet hair. He could see Sam on the stretcher, the paramedics continuing to pump air into his lungs. Sam's arms hung limply off the sides of the gurney. He realized now they had intubated his brother, a tube snaking out of the corner of his lips.

He ran over to Sam's side.

"Is he alive?" He asked tentatively.

"We have a weak pulse," the paramedic responded. "We are taking him to County if you want to ride with us."

Dean gratefully hopped into the back of the ambulance, his attention focused on Sam. He could see now that bruises were beginning to form on Sam's chest and side. He wasn't sure if it was from the CPR or from the strength of the drain.

The paramedic hooked Sam up to the heart monitor and Dean watched as it registered a slightly unsteady rhythm. He watched the paramedic's face for any hints of Sam's prognosis but was given none.

Just before they reached the doors of the hospital, the paramedic radioed in that they were coming in with an unresponsive, hypoxic drowning victim experiencing bradycardia, and with no voluntary breathing.

Even though he wasn't sure what all the medical jargon meant, he guessed that it wasn't good based on the way his brother looked. His color wasn't nearly as bad as it was but he still retained a pale, gray color and hadn't regained consciousness.

Dean was ushered to the side as Sam's stretcher was unloaded in the ambulance bay and a team of doctors surrounded him.

Sam was whisked off as he stood standing there, unsure of what to do.

"Sir, why don't you have a seat? I'll bring you some forms to fill out," a woman at the admittance desk informed him.

He walked into the waiting room, taking it all in. It was the usual set up, uncomfortable chairs lined up in a row with a TV hanging from the wall blaring some afternoon talk show. He instantly realized that the place obviously hadn't been affected by the power outage as the air conditioner was blasting. Now that he thought about it, the pool hadn't been affected by the power outage either. It was obvious that the outage was restricted to a small area. They should have never gone swimming but somewhere else instead.

He sat down in a seat, registering now his wet clothes clinging to him. He shivered from the cold air being blasted out of the vent above his head.

"Here you go," the woman said, returning with the paperwork. Dean knew exactly how this worked, filling out the paperwork was a way to keep him busy and quiet. His mind was racing and he couldn't focus on what was in front of him. He dropped the papers on a nearby table and wrapped his arms around his chest, both from nerves and to stave off the chill.

He looked up at the TV above him. The host was talking about the latest summer fashions as models walked a small runway. He nearly scoffed at some of the getups the people were wearing. _If that's high fashion, hell must have actually frozen over and Lucifer skated out,_ he thought.

The show was nearly over when a doctor walked out calling his name. He leaped up and met him halfway.

"Come with me," the doctor said motioning him forward.

"I'm Dr. Ames," the doctor said, continuing to lead him forward.

"How's Sam," Dean asked, still not understanding what was going on. He didn't like to be dragged around and not given any information in regards to his brother's condition. Finally, the doctor stopped just before the doors of the emergency room.

"How's Sam?" Dean asked.

"He's doing surprisingly well, given how long I heard he was without oxygen."

Dean was tempted to heave a big sigh of relief but he knew better. This didn't make sense.

"But I don't understand," Dean began. "In the ambulance, the paramedics said Sam wasn't doing well."

"When he was brought in, Sam wasn't doing well. His heartbeat was sluggish and he wasn't breathing on his own. However, we gave him some medication which improved his heartbeat. Sam also regained consciousness and began breathing on his own so we extubated him. We're just giving him some oxygen at the moment."

"You mean Sam's awake?" Dean asked, surprised.

"Yes, he is. He might be resting now after all he has been through but he's fully conscious. Normally, with such a long time of submersion, we worry about brain injuries, but Sam seemed quite lucid and hopefully he won't have any lasting effects. He did suffer some injuries either from the drain or the CPR including a couple of broken ribs and a broken ulna in his arm."

"A broken arm?" Dean asked, unsure how Sam had managed that one.

"The drain was quite powerful. It most likely caused the break as Sam was pulled in. Luckily it was a clean break and Ortho is going to come down shortly to cast it. Those drains can cause even more serious injuries so Sam was actually pretty lucky in that regard."

The doctor led him through the doors into a small curtained area where Sam was.

Sam was propped up on some pillows, just a nasal cannula under his nose. His left arm was in a brace at the moment. His features were drawn but compared to how he looked before, it was a welcome surprise for Dean. His eyes were closed but they opened when Dean entered.

"Hi," he said halfheartedly when he saw Dean. His voice was gruff and hoarse but Dean was grateful to hear it.

"I can't believe how great you look," Dean replied. He felt stupid after the comment but he didn't know what else to say and he was still in shock that Sam looked so well when it seemed just mere moments before he was on the brink of death.

"How's the kid?" Sam asked, not meeting his eyes.

"I…I don't know," Dean said hesitantly. "They had a pulse when they took him to the hospital. Maybe he's at this hospital. Did you ask?" Dean questioned as he looked up at the doctor.

"I'm sorry we can't disclose that information due to confidentiality laws."

Sam looked dejected and lost as if he wasn't sure how to handle the information, or lack thereof.

"When can I get out of here?" Sam asked finally, looking pointedly at the doctor.

"Sam, you almost died. I don't think—," Dean began.

"I don't want to be here," Sam interrupted, cutting him off.

Dean was slightly taken aback by Sam's behavior. It was uncharacteristic at best, but then again he hadn't exactly been acting like himself lately.

"Well Sam, we discussed this. We recommend you stay at least 24 hours just to be safe," the doctor responded.

"To be safe?" Dean asked.

"It's to ensure that there aren't any complications. Sam most likely imbibed copious amounts of water. There can be problems."

"But I feel fine," Sam said, sounding insincere and slightly manipulative.

Dean didn't like how he was acting one bit and he was going to tell him as soon as the doctor was out of earshot.

"He's staying," Dean said, definitively, giving Sam a withering look to let him know the case was closed.

"Okay, we'll find him a bed on the regular floor. Ortho will be down soon to cast that arm. I'll be back to check on you later, okay?" Dr. Ames said, patting Sam on the knee.

"Whatever," Sam said, dejectedly, pouting like a child.

"Why are you acting like a baby?" Dean asked, once the doctor was gone, his temper getting the best of him.

"I just don't think it's necessary for me to stay here," Sam replied. _Or be here at all_, he thought privately but would not share with Dean.

"Well the doctor says it is. If you could have seen yourself a couple hours ago—"

"Please Dean just end it," Sam interjected again.

"No, you end—"

Dean was cut off for the third time when the Orthopedic doctor walked in to cast Sam's arm.

Once that was complete, Sam was removed from the oxygen and taken upstairs to a regular room, where he spent most of the night sleeping, although Dean suspected that he was faking most of the time just to avoid talking to him. Once the new day dawned and Dr. Ames stopped by to see how he was doing, Sam didn't waste any time.

"Can I leave now?" Sam asked, before the doctor had even examined him.

"Let's see how you are doing first before we discuss that."

Dean was ushered out of the room while Dr. Ames examined Sam, listening to his lungs and asking him basic questions to make sure he was still doing as well as the previous day. When the doctor was finished, he asked Dean to return to the room.

"What's the verdict Doctor?" Dean asked.

"Well as much as I'd prefer Sam spend another few hours, he's doing as well as can be expected. I'm going to give him some pain medication for his arm and some instructions and signs to look out for. If Sam has any trouble breathing, we ask that he returns to the hospital immediately."

The doctor barely had time to finish speaking before Sam was mobile and looking for clothes. Dean stood there dumbly, still not comprehending Sam's sudden need to get going as soon as possible. Neither of them enjoyed the multiple visits they had to the hospital through the years but both were willing to acquiesce when one of them was extremely injured or sick.

"Where are my clothes?" Sam asked, after the doctor had left.

"Um, I think there are some in the car. You only had your swim shorts on remember?"

"Can you get them please?" Sam asked, petulantly.

"The car isn't here," Dean said, realizing it himself for the first time. "It's still at the pool. I rode with you in the ambulance."

Sam looked at him like he had committed sacrilege.

"Great," he muttered.

"Look I'll go get you some scrubs to change into and we'll get a cab, okay?"

"Fine," Sam stated, sitting on the edge of the bed.

ooooo

Forty-five minutes later, they were back at the hotel. Sam had quickly gone into the bathroom to shower and returned to recline on the bed. He gingerly rubbed his chest.

"You okay?" Dean asked concerned.

"Yeah, just hurts a bit," Sam lied. His chest was burning and he knew it but he wasn't in the mood to discuss it.

"I'll get you a pill," Dean said. He returned with the medication and handed him a cup of water.

"Thanks," Sam said offhandedly, swallowing the pill.

Dean gave him a stern look, taking in his features. He noticed Sam's eyes had circles under them which seemed to indicate Sam had been feigning sleep the entire night. He also noticed Sam's eyes were pain inflected.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yes, Dean," Sam answered angrily. "Stop hovering."

"Excuse me?" Dean said, reacting. "I'm not the one who just drowned."

"Yeah? And I'm not the one being watched like a hawk. Although I should be used to it by this time with the way you look at me as if at any moment, I'll go on a demon blood drinking binge and go all darkside."

"Well you earn distrust Sam, remember that."

If Sam was willing to go there, he was too. He knew their unresolved issues were always the third party in the room waiting to object even when they were getting along.

"And when do I regain it then?" Sam asked hoarsely.

"Sam, how did we even get to this point?" Dean asked, not sure if he meant the present moment or the past few years of their life.

Sam shrugged.

"You know this wasn't the reunion I was expecting between us."

"Well, who said I wanted the damn reunion anyway!" Sam yelled.

"Listen Sam, I'm the one who has a right to be pissed right now, not you. _I'm_ the one who was lied to and deceived by everything. _I'm_ the one _you_ refused to listen to!" He yelled, his voice growing louder as he continued. "I've watched you drink poison, been beat up because you were hopped up on demon juice, and then forced to standby while you let the frigging devil out. We don't even know where he is. There was an angel who could actually help us, but according to Chuck, Cas is dead. The sad part is that's not even the worst of it. The worst thing of all is that you chose that demon bitch over your own brother!"

Sam just sat on the bed speechless. His chest was heaving and the pain felt worse even though the medication was starting to make him sleepy.

"Look I'm going to bed," Sam said, defeated.

"If you are angry Sam, you're directing it at the wrong person. It's not my fault we're here. I'm not the one to blame."

Sam didn't respond, but instead flopped listlessly onto the bed.

Dean sat on the other side of the room as if there was now an invisible barrier between them that neither dared to cross. He watched as Sam drifted into an uneasy sleep, coughing slightly here and there. He resumed his research, glancing over at Sam occasionally who was still asleep, his cast nestled uncomfortably under his face. He was tempted to move it but his anger was still bubbling under the surface. Around dinnertime, he tried to rouse Sam before he went and got the car and some dinner, but Sam kept on sleeping.

He returned with food for the both of them and saw that Sam was now awake. He acknowledged him with a bleary eyed look as he walked into the room.

"Brought food," Dean stated simply, sitting down at the small table in the room.

Sam wasn't sure if this was some kind of peace offering but he wasn't hungry. In fact he felt sick. His anger was gone now, replaced with mixed emotions. He was still upset about what happened both at the pool and with Dean, but now he wasn't sure what to think. He wasn't even sure where all the vitriol had come from. He had been placating Dean for the most part lately but maybe he had reached his breaking point. Dean did have a right to be upset with him and to blame him, but he just wanted it to be over. He certainly wasn't going to tell Dean the way he felt because he doubted he could get how conflicted he was. He also wasn't too keen on letting him in how lousy he felt either based on his reaction at the hospital.

He got up slowly from the bed, waving his hand at Dean to let him know that he wasn't interested in eating. The room swayed slightly as he walked. He wasn't sure if it was because he had slept for so many hours or if it was due to how poorly he felt. He threw some cold water on his face and coughed. He felt short of breath and his chest ached with each breath he took. He walked out and grabbed another pill, downing it with some water. He then collapsed on the bed. It was just as well. He didn't care how he felt. Then he realized that was what he felt most of all, a feeling of apathy. He just didn't care about his well being anymore. He was a failure no matter which way he looked at it. He couldn't even die properly, he thought ruefully as he fell back into an uneasy sleep.

ooooo

Dean watched as Sam stumbled into the bathroom, figuring the strong medication was taking a toll on him. He heard him cough several times and he hoped he wasn't coming down with something. They didn't need to deal with that on top of everything else. He didn't think he looked well but he had been through a lot and he wasn't going to push the issue. Sam said he didn't want him hovering and he wasn't going to. Sam wasn't wrong in that he felt wary of him at times, but in his opinion it was justified. Knowingly or unknowingly, he _had_ set Lucifer free. He finished up the last of his sandwich as he saw Sam take another pill and take to the bed once again. At any rate, he probably figured it was for the best. He was sure extra rest couldn't be a bad thing. He continued his research for a couple more hours and turned on the TV to catch the news to see if there was anything else going on out there besides the various hurricanes and earthquakes that told of Lucifer's release. He gave Sam a cursory glance before nodding off with the TV quietly playing in the background.

He woke with a start sensing something was off. He looked up at the clock and squinted in the darkness to see what time it was. It was close to four in the morning. There was an odd sound coming from Sam's direction of the room which apparently had awakened him.

"Sam? You okay over there?" He queried.

Sam didn't answer but the sound continued. It sounded like retching.

Dean jumped up quickly to assess what was going on. He switched on the light and immediately saw that Sam was in distress. He was on his side on the bed, gurgling for air. There was a pink frothy liquid coming from his lips. He noticed immediately that the front of Sam's shirt and his cast was covered in the liquid that Sam had apparently vomited. Sam's skin was pale and there was a sheen of sweat covering his brow. He shook Sam's shoulders to try to bring him back to a higher level of consciousness but Sam just lolled limply against his ministrations. It was obvious that Sam was having trouble breathing and Dean had no idea why.

"Come on we have to get you to the hospital," Dean said, still attempting to haul his brother upright. He was uncertain if the painkillers Sam had taken had caused some sort of reaction and this level of unconsciousness but he had a feeling it was something more sinister.

Finally he dialed 911 and explained to the operator that his brother was having trouble breathing and he needed an ambulance.

While waiting for the ambulance, Dean made sure Sam was on his side so he wouldn't asphyxiate on his own vomit and tried to prop him up so he could breathe better. He listened to Sam's labored breaths, watching his chest painfully, agonizingly try to suck in air. His breaths grew further apart until he realized in horror that they suddenly stopped.

**TBC**


	3. Baptized By The River

A/N 1: Sorry to leave everyone hanging last chapter. Did anyone really think that Sam would be completely fine after almost drowning? I couldn't resist having some complications thrown in the mix since complications are a Sam's best friend :) I know it's been a ridiculously long time since I updated this story. It actually has been done for a long time since it was written for a summer challenge. There is no real excuse for the wait other than the fact that I was losing hope in the show. I wasn't too happy with the beginning of season 8 although lately the show has been better. The last four episodes have renewed some of my faith and given me hope. I have really enjoyed the brotherly moments and especially the limp!Sam and Protective!Dean. Here is to hoping that the "bromentum" continues.

A/N 2: Thanks again to everyone for the reviews. I did not get a chance to respond to all of them yet so if you haven't received a thank you, Thank you for the support!

* * *

Sam? Sammy!" He shouted frantically. "No, no, no! We're not doing this!"

He flipped Sam on to his back and began CPR as Sam's skin went from pale to the insidious gray pallor that it held at the pool.

"Come on! Wake up!" Dean shouted. He saw more of the pinkish liquid being expelled from Sam's nose and his panic ratcheted up a notch.

He lost count of how many chest compressions and breaths he gave when he heard the sirens in front of the door. He let the paramedics in.

"He's not breathing!" he informed them immediately.

They walked over to Sam on the bed and placed two fingers on his pulse.

"No pulse," the paramedic stated.

They quickly moved Sam to the floor and continued the chest compressions where Dean had left off. Dean just stood there in the small hotel room, waiting for a sign that Sam was still alive.

He watched again for the second time as Sam was intubated and hooked up to a heart monitor.

"He's in VFib!" The paramedic shouted, grabbing the defibrillator.

"Charge to 300 and clear," the paramedic said as he shocked Sam.

Dean jolted himself as Sam was shocked three more times. Finally after the fourth time, a slow beating could be heard on the heart monitor.

"Let's get him ready for transport," the paramedic said, as they lifted Sam on to a stretcher.

Dean followed quietly behind, biting his nails in agitation.

He was grateful Sam was alive but he didn't know how tentative his hold was on life or if he'd make it at all.

He couldn't believe for the second time in less than 48 hours he was riding in the back of an ambulance with his barely breathing brother.

The paramedic in the back listened to Sam's lungs and the said something into the radio clipped to his shoulder. Dean wasn't sure what it was but it sounded like rales.

"Rales? What is that? Dean asked, staring at his brother.

"It's medical terminology."

"I know that jackass, but what is it?" He wasn't going to stand idly by this time not having a clue to his brother's condition while they rode to the hospital.

"It's a sign that your brother is having an issue with his lungs which is affecting his breathing," the paramedic said, ignoring Dean's flippant behavior.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Dean asked, looking at Sam.

"I can't tell you that. I'm sorry. He has a heartbeat right now so that's the important thing."

They arrived at the hospital and the paramedics rushed to get Sam through the ER doors, leaving Dean behind once again.

He went in the waiting room, but this time his wait was definitively longer. He watched the doors, anticipating the doctor every time someone walked out. However, no one approached him. Several hours passed and he did what he could to control his frustration, feeling as if he was a pot on a stove. Each minute the temperature was being raised until he was ready to reach the boiling point.

Finally he couldn't take it any longer. His anger took over and he irately approached the front desk demanding information on Sam.

Eventually Dr. Ames appeared to speak with Dean but only after he was forced to wait another hour.

"Is Sam alive?" Dean asked. It was what he needed to know, first and foremost.

"Yes he is, but I'm not going to lie to you. His condition is extremely critical."

"What's wrong with him? Did he have some kind of reaction to the medication?"

"No, Sam was a victim of secondary drowning."

"Say again?" Dean asked, genuinely confused.

"Sam essentially experienced another drowning episode," Dr. Ames explained.

"How is that even possible? He wasn't even in the water. He took a shower, but that's about as close as he got."

"When Sam was submerged the first time, he ingested water which unfortunately absorbed into the alveoli or pores in his lungs. His lungs filled with fluid and restricted his breathing," Dr. Ames clarified.

"But you said he was fine, that he could leave the hospital."

"Sam did appear to be well enough to go home."

"He appeared? Maybe you shouldn't have let him the hell out of here," Dean said, angrily.

"Generally these issues show up in 24 hours but that's not always the case. Sam was watched for nearly that amount of time."

"Yeah, nearly that amount of time. I seem to remember you saying you would have liked him to stay a few hours longer. Look, I hope you didn't let the kid go because he was griping when something was up. He hasn't been in the right frame of mind lately."

"I don't believe this has anything to do with Sam leaving the hospital when he did. I said secondary drowning appears in 24 hours but that is not always the case. It can appear up to 72 hours later. Obviously it occurred later in Sam. Doctors can't predict the outcomes of these cases."

"Well you should have noticed something before you let him leave here!" He couldn't help his irritation even if the doctor was trying to be patient with him.

"Sam didn't have any signs of distress when he was released. His lungs were clear. Generally we look for signs such as shortness of breath, coughing, chest pain, exhaustion, and agitation. Did Sam display any of these signs when he returned home? I also gave you the paper with symptoms to watch out for."

Dean froze. Actually Sam had displayed those symptoms and he hadn't even looked at the paper. However, he didn't like how this was being flipped around on him, even though he knew he saw some of those signs. Sam was agitated and tired. He was coughing and his chest hurt. How was he to know though? He still thought the doctor should have noticed something though. He wasn't a doctor and he thought Sam was just being a pain in the ass.

"Look," Dr. Ames continued. "I don't think it's a good time to play the blame game. I understand you are upset but we are doing what we can to control the fluid buildup in Sam's lungs and keep him breathing."

Dean felt like an expert at the blame game lately. In fact he thought he was the champion. It was so easy to place the blame lately. It actually felt good because it gave him something, or someone, to direct his anger at. He knew he found it quite easy to place the blame on Sam lately but he wasn't sure how justified he was in his resentment any longer.

"You called an ambulance and got Sam here when he was in distress. That saved his life right there," Dr. Ames finished.

"So he'll recover?" Dean asked.

"Hopefully," Dr. Ames answered truthfully.

"Hopefully?"

"As with a regular drowning, we have to worry about brain damage seeing the amount of time that Sam was without oxygen. Unfortunately, the pain killers also most likely suppressed his breathing. I know he stopped breathing prior to being brought here and he also briefly stopped breathing in the ER. Only time will tell. If you'd like I can take you to see him now."

Dean held his tongue, wanting to lash out again about Sam being given powerful drugs that made him worse, but he followed numbly behind the doctor once again down the hall. He noticed however that this time he was being escorted to the doors of the intensive care unit. When he walked into the room, he wasn't prepared for what he saw. It was such a stark contrast to the annoying little brother itching to get out of the hospital a little more than 24 hours before.

Sam was flat on the bed, his skin so pale that Dean questioned whether he was actually still alive. A tube was inserted into his mouth, down his throat mechanically doing the breathing for him. Dean also noticed the other tube inserted into Sam's nostril.

"Right now Sam is hooked up to a ventilator to give his lungs a chance to rest and heal. We also have inserted a nasogastric tube due to the fact that Sam aspirated some sputum from the endotracheal tube," Dr. Ames explained, when he saw Dean looking questioningly at Sam.

"Sputum? Was that the pink stuff Sam was choking on?" Dean asked.

"Yes, it's common with pulmonary edema or the buildup of fluid that Sam is suffering from. It's fluid mixed with blood. We have Sam on a drug called Lasix which is generally used in heart patients."

"Does Sam have something wrong with his heart?" Dean asked, alarmed.

"No, the drug is used for a variety of reasons but that is the most common. The drug is a diuretic which controls the fluid. We are trying to clear Sam's lungs."

Dean just nodded, his eyes affixed to Sam in the bed. Dr. Ames seemed to sense that Dean wanted to be alone and he quietly excused himself, promising to return later.

At first, Dean just sat in the chair by the bed, listening to the various beeping sounds around him. He didn't want to admit it but he felt afraid to approach Sam. It scared him to think how bad things had become between them that he no longer felt like he knew big brother protocol or how to comfort Sam.

It was hard to imagine all they had been through in the last few weeks. He had watched Sam suffer in the panic room to detox off the demon blood, writhing in agony and being tossed about the room. Bobby had to prompt him to help him when Sam was in the throes of the seizure. He couldn't handle it. He couldn't handle it now looking at Sam in the bed, most of his face obscured by tape and tubes.

He remembered their various fights and thought how odd it was that he could barely count how many arguments he and Sam had lately because there were so many. _Too many_. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Finally he got up and stood over Sam, folding his hands over the railing.

"Look Sam, I'm sorry okay," Dean began. He half expected to hear Sam apologize back. Sam had done so much of it lately and what had he done? He told him to stop, told him he didn't want to hear it. Now he'd give anything to hear Sam say something back to him.

"I know you are always doing the apologizing around here lately, but you don't need to," Dean continued. "I wasn't exactly Mr. Perfect myself. If I hadn't set the whole apocalypse ball rolling, we wouldn't be here in the first place. I broke the first seal and you broke the last one so we're even okay? We collaborated on making the mess and now we'll work together on cleaning it up. Deal?" Dean looked hopefully at Sam's face expecting to see some sign of approval but there was none.

Dean walked dejectedly back to his chair to resume his watch. He had evened out his breaths to match with Sam's and immediately noticed when something was amiss. He saw Sam was struggling again, his breaths not in sync with the ventilator. Was he fighting the vent? He wasn't sure.

He pushed the call button and true to his word Dr. Ames came in to see what was wrong. He looked at the numbers on Sam's heart monitor and then listened to his lungs.

"His sats have dropped," Dr. Ames said, frowning. "The crepitations have worsened in his left lung."

"Crepi what?" Dean asked. He was losing patience with the amount of medical crap being thrown out around him lately with no explanation behind it.

"Crepitations or rales are caused by the fluid in Sam's lungs. I can hear them with my stethoscope. We are going to increase his meds and increase the amount of PEEP, or positive end-expiratory pressure, through his ventilator, to open up Sam's lungs more to increase his oxygen."

Dean had thought—_wished_-Sam was waking up so he was startled by the latest complication. However, he was relieved when Sam's sats improved after treatment.

It was two days of sitting vigil beside a still unconscious Sam before Dean left the hospital room just to stretch his legs. Dean briefly walked out down the hall to grab a drink. He was walking to the vending machine for a coffee when he accidentally bumped into a woman.

"I'm sorry, miss," he said, about to walk away.

"Sir? Dean?" She said, causing him to turn back.

"And you are?" Dean asked questioningly. She looked familiar but he couldn't be sure.

"My name is Shannon Adams. I'm Rex and Will's mom."

Instantly Dean knew who she was.

"Look I shouldn't even be asking you this because I'm not supposed to have the information in the first place but how is Sam?"

"He's…hanging on," Dean said hesitating.

"I just had to know who saved Rex like that," she said, tearfully. "The hospital wouldn't give me much information and I know what your brother sacrificed to get Rex out of there. The doctor said if he hadn't blocked the drain with his own body like that that Rex would have never gotten out."

Dean took in the information, not sure what to do with it. He'd known Sam had freed the kid but he never realized that Sam had been willing to give up his own life to get the kid out. Then again should he really be surprised? Sam was always willing to put his life on the line to save others. He started to see the change in how he viewed Sam, less as a savior but more as someone in need of saving from himself. Yet he wondered why Sam would be so quick to give his life like that? Did he think he was even worth it anymore?

"I'm so sorry. I have a friend who works in admitting and she told me Sam was released but then he had a relapse. Rex is getting out today and I was hoping to get the boys to meet him, thank him. Lord knows he'd probably be a good role model. The boys don't have a dad. They depend on each other quite a bit. They look like they'll kill each other at times, but yet I know they'd kill for each other."

Dean couldn't help the sudden burst of moisture in his eyes. She might as well been talking about the two of them. _Or the two of us in the past_, Dean thought sadly.

I'm sorry I'm rambling, but please give Sam my best," She walked off down the hall.

When Dean walked back toward Sam's room, he noticed that there was an alarm blaring in the hallway calling a code. He rushed faster when he realized it was Sam's room.

"What's going on?" He asked as a nurse blocked his path.

"Sam spiked a fever and his sats plummeted."

Dean watched as a defibrillator cart was rushed down the hallway. He knew instinctively that Sam was slipping away.

He rushed over to the small window of Sam's room, peeking in. He could see Sam's ventilator being removed so they could bag him. He saw Sam's pillows being pulled away and his head hitting the hospital bed. He wanted to say something about how roughly Sam was being handled but he knew they were just doing what they could to save his life. Then he watched as Sam was shocked again. He didn't have time to see the outcome as the blinds were drawn quickly.

Dean just stood there in shock, still holding on to the coffee cup from the vending machine. He didn't register how hot it was, the cup scalding his fingers until his contact was cut off from Sam.

He dropped it to the floor, cursing in pain.

"Damn it!" He yelled.

Just then, a nurse walked out of Sam's room and immediately approached him.

"We got him back. Dr. Ames said he'll be out shortly to speak with you. I'll call someone to clean that up."

Dean had barely registered the mess the coffee had made all over the floor as well, standing there in the middle of it, the sticky mess not the only thing keeping him rooted to the spot.

Dean paced the small expanse of the hallway near Sam's door, making squeaky noises as he walked until Dr. Ames appeared once again.

"How is he?" Dean was getting sick of asking the same question over and over.

"Sam's pulmonary edema caused what is known as a pleural effusion which means a pocket of lung was filled with fluid. We managed to aspirate it with a needle."

"Are you saying you stuck a needle into my brother's chest?" Dean asked, horrified.

"Yes. It was the only way to restore Sam's oxygen levels. He bottomed out and his heart stopped again. Unfortunately we think your brother also developed an infection which is common with fresh water drowning."

Dean listened intently having a sinking feeling that the doctor hadn't given him the whole story yet. He still hadn't told him how Sam was.

"Dean, unfortunately Sam has slipped into a coma," Dr. Ames continued, confirming Dean's worst fears. "His heart stopped beating again and it took us awhile to get him back. He is no longer breathing on his own. The ventilator is doing all the work. We are doing what we can, but with the infection and complications—"

"Save it!" Dean said, loudly, interrupting the doctor.

He brushed past him quickly, returning to Sam's side. He looked the same as before. It wasn't clear that Sam was in a coma but he knew now his brother was much further away than before. Somehow he felt it.

"Sam, you had a visitor," Dean began. "Well this girl wanted to see you. You know that kid you saved? Well I guess he's doing really well, but his mom sounds like she is really into you. If you don't wake up soon, I'll snag her number before you do," Dean finished with a mirthless chuckle. He felt stupid. The words hardly seemed right to share with someone in a coma but he didn't want to just sit there.

"The doctor says you have some kind of infection. I think you probably want to wake up before I tell you I told you so because I did say the pool was teeming with bacteria," Dean said, attempting to make another joke. However, he was sick of it.

"Look Sam, we need to talk," Dean said, becoming serious and desperate. "I have been doing a good job of being the victim lately but it isn't right."

He looked up at Sam again as if seeing him more clearly than he had in a long time. Sam was no different than before. His face was still the same, impossibly young looking despite all they'd been through. His hair still had a mind of its own, wisps sticking out in different directions. Most importantly though, deep down Sam still was the loving caring person he always was. The fact that he was at death's door in a hospital bed was proof of that. So why did he see him differently? Was it because of the demon blood? Was it because he drank so much of it that his eyes turned black? He wasn't certain but Sam was still Sam, maybe not the same as he had always been but could he really blame him for that? Sam had been sentenced to watch him die and then left alone. He couldn't deny that he'd be just as angry, just as vengeful.

"Sam. Sammy," Dean continued. "We were both expected to play certain roles in this whole Armageddon mess, but we both got lost."

Dean wanted to say more about how they both had forgotten their most important roles of all which were big brother and little brother but he couldn't do it unless Sam was awake. It would mean more that way.

ooooo

Dean was forced to watch as Sam's fever persisted and his temperature rose so high, he could swear that felt the heat emanating off Sam's body. He could barely keep up with mopping the sweat off of Sam's forehead. Dr. Ames had trouble keeping Sam's lungs clear and was forced to insert a chest drain when the fluid persisted. He also had to increase Sam's dosage of antibiotics.

Dean wasn't sure how much Sam, yet alone himself, could take. He began to doubt himself that he would ever get to have the much needed conversation with his brother when Sam's fever finally broke. He began coming around, breathing on his own, and triggering the vent. It was day six when Sam opened his eyes, sluggishly and haltingly.

Dr. Ames had warned him that the longer Sam stayed under, the more chance he would suffer permanent effects so Dean wasn't sure what to expect.

Dr. Ames rushed in to examine Sam as soon as he was awake. Sam's tubes were removed, save for the chest drain which needed to stay in awhile longer. Then Dean was allowed back in the room. He edged his way closer to Sam's bed, relieved to see the tape and tubes gone, just a nasal cannula under Sam's nose.

"Sor…sorry," Sam whispered. It was barely perceptible and Dean had to put his ear close to hear it, but Sam's words confirmed it for Dean that Sam was fine.

"Sam's weak and tired and his lungs still need time to heal," Dr. Ames said to Dean as Sam's eyes began to slip closed once again. "I do think he will be okay though. Miraculously, I don't think he suffered any cognitive effects. No early release for him though," Dr. Ames said jovially to Sam who was already asleep and didn't hear him.

ooooo

It was another two days before Dr. Ames removed the chest drain and Sam seemed completely coherent. Dean knew it was growing closer to the time that he and Sam had to talk. He had been eager before but now he was unsure. He walked back into the hospital room after briefly leaving to grab a shower back at the hotel to see Sam propped up in bed, blowing into a small plastic apparatus attempting to keep a small ball elevated in the air.

"Lung exercise," Sam said sheepishly, haphazardly tossing it onto the bed.

An awkward silence passed between them as if they were both daring the other to speak, two chess pieces awaiting the next move.

"Dean, I want to apologize for what I said before," Sam began first. "When I said I didn't want the reunion, I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

Dean sighed heavily. The last thing he wanted was Sam to start apologizing yet again.

"Sam, you don't need to explain. I understand and I don't blame you for not wanting to be around me. I haven't exactly been the best companion."

"No I didn't mean it like that. I meant I just wished I hadn't—"

"Lived? Made it?" Dean finished for him.

Sam was stunned into silence, surprised Dean had figured it out, that he wished he had died.

"The kid's mother stopped by and she told me that you sacrificed yourself."

"It's not that I was suicidal Dean. I just wanted…redemption," Sam stuttered as if looking for the right word.

"So you think you have to die to get it? You dying won't fix anything."

"Dean, I know. I know I can never make up for what I did."

"That's not what I mean, Sam," Dean said, slightly flustered. "I'm saying that you can't die to make it right. I think you are actually doing the world a disservice by not being around. How else are we going to fix this mess? We need to work together Sam. We got turned around. We are back to back—"

"Instead of side by side," Sam finished.

They locked eyes for the briefest of seconds, each one feeling the connection as if completing a circuit.

They both were pulled from their reverie and turned in surprise when they heard a small knock at the door. They looked up to see Shannon come in, followed by her two boys.

"We heard you were doing better," She said, winking at Dean.

The older boy was on crutches, and hobbled over to Sam's side.

"You're Rex, right?" Sam asked him.

The boy nodded.

"How are you?" Sam asked him.

"I'm fine. I sprained my ankle from the drain but I guess I got off easy."

"What were you doing in the drain anyway?"

"Rex lost his action figure so I took the cover off and it pulled me in."

"The things we do for our little brothers huh?" Dean said, looking at Rex and then Sam.

"Yeah, Willy drives me crazy but he will always be my little brother."

"It's Will! I told you I hate when you call me that!" Will interjected.

Dean couldn't hide the chuckle. It was like looking into a mirror.

"Someday you are actually going to like when he calls you that," Sam said wisely. "It will make you feel safe," Sam looked Dean in the eye and smiled. It also helps when you grow taller than him. Then you can hold it over his head, literally."

"I wanted you to have this," Willy said, handing Sam a red Power Ranger action figure.

"He was my hero, but now you are. You saved Rex. Thanks!"

Dean smiled. He knew that this was just what Sam needed most of all. He needed to know he was still a hero. He had made mistakes but ultimately what he did mattered. He knew he and Sam still had a lot to work out with their trust issues and a devil to send back to hell but he had his brother by his side. He'd trust in that for now.

The End

Thanks for reading! I'm actually working on a blizzard fic that I'll be posting soon. Hope to see you then :)


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